


Nightshade

by pansystan



Series: The Last Meal [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Assassin AU, F/M, Gen, mild descriptions of death and murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-17 07:59:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11847315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pansystan/pseuds/pansystan
Summary: Pansy received her first assignment after three months of training. A singular name, one she knew well, printed in white on a black calling card.I am Nightshade, she thought;I am deliverance.She removed a dagger from her belt. It was long and silver, with a handle shaped like a fish. It felt heavy in her palm, it felt like everything she had lost, everything she was willing to give to get it back.





	Nightshade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peregrinefalcon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peregrinefalcon/gifts).
  * Inspired by [How to Be a Human Being](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12006078) by [peregrinefalcon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peregrinefalcon/pseuds/peregrinefalcon). 



> A prequel to _The Last Meal_ by _peregrinefalcon_

Pansy received her first assignment after three months of training. A singular name, one she knew well, printed in white on a black calling card.

 

_Eliezer Carrow._

A friend of her father’s, Pansy couldn’t help but think; but her father was gone now – at least _T_ _he Last Meal_ had had the mercy to take him quickly.

 

The day of the kill Pansy hadn’t been able to eat at all, her stomach knotted as the sun sank and she readied herself to leave. Plaiting her hair back so it was out of her face, dressing all in black and packing her equipment belt with knives. _I am Nightshade,_ she thought; _I am deliverance._

 

The pavement was wet as she made her way to her mark’s house, the streetlights reflecting in amber and red off of the wavering puddles. Pansy trod silently, stealthily, as she made her way down the street she had known so well. Eliezer hadn’t fled, believing, foolishly, that the Ministry could protect him. Instead he lived, boldly, _unabashedly_ in the house he was raised in, whilst Pansy and the rest of _T_ _he Last Meal_ lived in the shadows, the spaces that nobody else wanted.

 

Something flickered inside Pansy, as a simple _alohomora_ turned the lock of the grand front door. She thought, perhaps, that it was fear but as it built up inside of her she recognised it as justice, vengeance, _control_.

 

“He’s upstairs,” Angel spoke for the first time since they had established their legilimency connection ten minutes earlier, “in the library.”

 

“Is he expecting company?” Pansy asked, twirling a knife in her left hand, “I would _hate_ to interrupt.”

 

“I believe he knows his time is coming.”

 

Pansy knew this house, she had spent time here as a child, at balls and charity functions, and she allowed the third stair to creak under her weight. She imagined Eliezer cowering in the library behind a shelf. Fear would not save him, but it would gratify her.

 

She was quiet but not silent as she ascended the stairs, hoping the soft rustles would scare him, the house was breathing its last breath. Casting a quick revealing charm Pansy saw the jinxes Carrow had put in place in an attempt to save himself. She almost laughed, it was futile for him to try and hide; she could disable all of these charms in her sleep. She set to work on the anti-intruder jinx, it was difficult to unravel but not impossible. Slowly she unpicked the jinx as though it were an unfortunate embroidery hoop, threading the needle in reverse to release the strands of the nasty curse. Just when she thought her attempts ineffective, the jinx fell away.

 

Pansy then quickly disabled the other jinxes and hexes before moving to the door of the library. It was locked and as the silent _alohomora_ Pansy cast did nothing, she almost groaned in frustration. Eliezer was on the other side of this door – it was just a matter of getting to him.

 

“It’s likely a clausaro charm,” Angel spoke up, “you’ll have to unpick it.”

 

Pansy unwound the locking charm much like she had the other charms and relished the soft click that told her the door was open. She considered a disillusionment charm for a moment but decided against it; she wanted Carrow to know she was coming for him and that there was nothing he could do to stop her.

 

Pansy trod lightly into the library, it was grand but not large enough for Carrow to hide. He shot a stunning spell at Pansy from behind a shelf, which she deflected. After deflecting several more hexes and a particularly deadly entrail-expelling curse, Pansy bound Carrow with a well-aimed _incarcerous_.

 

Carrow scrambled to get away from her, kicking his legs in an attempt to free them, until his back hit the bookshelf behind him and he realised he was trapped.

 

Pansy removed a dagger from her belt. It was long and silver, with a handle shaped like a fish. It felt heavy in her palm, it felt like everything she had lost, everything she was willing to give to get it back.

 

Standing over Carrow she fingered the knife, relishing the look of fear on his face. He knew better than to beg, however. Which, although she wouldn’t admit it, made it easier for Pansy.

 

The knife fell from her fingers in a practiced spiral, sinking into Eliezer’s chest with a soft precision. She had meant to hit a major artery, and she hit her target on her first try. Still, she removed the knife slowly from Carrow’s chest, watching his face critically to discern any sign that the wound may not be deadly.

 

His eyes met hers as he struggled to move in some attempt to retroactively save himself. After a few quiet minutes his eyes closed as blood loss rendered him unconscious, Pansy knew that he would be dead within another five.

 

Retrieving a clean handkerchief from her pocket Pansy wiped the blade of the dagger clean and replaced it in her belt. She then opened the library window and whistled for a crow.

 

A silent moment stretched just long enough that Pansy felt her skin begin to crawl before a bird appeared out of the darkness, flapping its way down to the windowsill. Pansy held out the handkerchief for the bird to take, petting its head briefly before it took off, the evidence of her kill in tow.

 

She closed the window, wiping it down in case of fingerprints, and left the house the same way she had entered, stopping only briefly at Carrow’s body to check for a pulse. There was none.

 

“Target neutralised.” Pansy told Angel over the link, not bothering to wait for a reply before she terminated it.

 

The quiet London streets felt too quiet, too calm as the backdrop to the blood rushing through Pansy’s head. The jubilation of her first kill, of retribution coursing through her body left her high. She felt as though she could do anything, have anything; but Pansy couldn’t have the things she _wanted_ anymore so instead she quietly returned to her apartment, where her two cats and a bottle of red that she had been saving for a special occasion were waiting for her.

 

As Pansy rummaged through her kitchen drawer for a bottle opener, her phone buzzed where it sat on the counter.

 

 **2:47am** a crow? How fitting

 

Pansy _knew_ she shouldn’t reply. While Pansy was confined to cower in the shadows, Potter _was_ the sun. She scrolled absently through the dozen or so texts prior to this one that she hadn’t responded to. This one shouldn’t be any different.

 

But today was different. Today the entirety of Pansy’s body buzzed, she felt drunk and reckless, she wanted _more_.

 

 **2:49am** bite me potter

 

The reply was instant.

 

 **2:49am** you’d like that wouldn’t you


End file.
